Sherlock Holmes and the Demon Barber
by Duchess Bathilda Hunnywagon
Summary: *Another old story* Recent events have interested the infamous Sherlock Holmes in a certain Judge Turpin and the mysterious Sweeney Todd.
1. Chapter 1 The Miracle Elixir

**Sherlock Holmes  
and the Demon Barber of Fleet Street  
**  
**The Miracle Elixir**

I do not usually accompany my friend, Sherlock Holmes on his walks around London. But today he insisted that I came with him. We left Baker Street at around ten O'clock and began our venture.  
"Where exactly are we going?" I asked my companion curiously. For a moment he did not reply and we continued walking.  
"We are simply walking my friend!" Sherlock replied with a curious smile.  
"Has Lestrade contacted you?" again my companion did not speak. This time it remained that way and we kept walking. He was looking at each house as we walked by them, clearly adding them to his fantastic memory. I on the other hand remained confused as I knew there was an ulterior motive that my friend was hiding from me. After roughly twenty minutes we arrived at a street unfamiliar to me. At a rather ordinary looking market. Sherlock stopped at a stall selling supposedly 'fresh fruit'.  
"This is not fresh at all" complained Sherlock as he picked up an orange with a sickly green tinge. The overweight balding stall owner glared at him with displeasure.  
"Not this again" he groaned.  
"It is simple my friend, get a better supplier and I shall not complain!" Sherlock replied, placing the tainted orange back in its previous position.  
"You gonna buy somethin'?" questioned the portly gentleman, looking at me.  
"I think my friend would rather take the dreaded scurvy good sir" Sherlock replied before I could say a word.  
"Bugger off!" growled the stall owner.  
"Until next time!" Sherlock nodded and approached a massing crowd.  
"Who was that?" I asked.  
"His name is Mark Doyle, not the most pleasant human being" Sherlock answered.  
"I suspect you know much more about him?"  
"More then he does I believe" Sherlock looked back at the man. "But that's neither here nor there" we moved further into the crowd until we got to a large traveller's caravan. At the sides of the caravan I read the words 'Pirelli's miracle elixir' and at the top it said 'Adolfo Pirelli' clearly this Pirelli was a travelling salesman of some sort. Suddenly a young boy appeared from behind the velvet curtain leading into the caravan. He was banging a drum and began to sing.  
"Ladies and Gentlemen! May I have your attention please?" he began, instantly getting the crowd's attention. "Do you wake every morning in shame and despair? To discover your pillow is covered with hair. Wot ought not to be there?" several balding men nodded in agreement. "Well, ladies and gentlemen. From now on you can waken with ease. You need never again have a worry or care, I will show you a miracle marvellous rare, Gentlemen, you are about to see something wot rose from the dead!" he paused and removed his hat revealing long blond hair. The crowd gasped. "On the top of my head!" I must admit the song he sang was rather catchy. He handed out a few samples of this so called elixir. It moved from person to person, each examining it briefly. Finally it reached my friend and I. He removed the cork from the bottle and inhaled.  
"Excuse me!" Sherlock Holmes called, holding up the bottle, blocking out the voice of a man and a woman nearby also complaining about the elixir. The boy stared at Sherlock like most other people did. The crowd parted and we were now the centre of attention. There was a muttering among the crowd. "Your so called 'elixir' is nothing more than pig's urine!" the crowd gasped, disgusted, a man who applied the concoction to his head began franticly rubbing at it with the sleeve. "And a mix of absurd herbs" Sherlock concluded. The velvet curtains burst open again. This time a well kept flamboyant man emerged. His slicked black hair and moustache was trimmed neatly, and a top hat rested on the top of his head. He wore a very foreign looking blue outfit with a gold trim and white ruff. A red cape was draped on his shoulder and an expensive cane was in hand. The man introduced himself to the crowd as Adolfo Pirelli and then questioned who called his elixir 'piss'. Sherlock moved even closer to the caravan.  
"I did, Mr. Pirelli" he said with a charming grin. He placed the bottle down on the edge of the stage which Pirelli was standing on. "I am afraid this is nothing more than a cheap gimmick to trick these people out of their hard earned money!"  
"Bloomin' hell!" I heard Mark Doyle groan.  
"I, the great Pirelli am the king of the barbers and the barber of kings! You dare accuse me of being a fraud?" Pirelli said angrily. Sherlock moved to the side of the caravan and walked up the stairs and approached the young boy. The boy flinched as Sherlock moved his hand towards the boy's head. He gripped the boy's blond hair, and with one swipe the hair and the boy were separated. The crowd gasped as Sherlock threw the wig down to the ground. Pirelli muttered something under his breath. Sherlock got off the stage and walked over to me.  
"Any particular reason for you doing that?" I asked.  
"Indeed there was" Sherlock replied. He was not looking at me; instead he was looking near a stall where I saw an overweight man, dressed in rather upper classed clothing, complete with a bowler hat, with dirty blond hair which went down his neck. He also had a short cane in his hand which he held above the ground. To me he looked like a greasy overweight rat. He approached Sherlock with a smile on his bloated face.  
"Good day Mr-" he began.  
"Holmes, Sherlock Holmes" Sherlock said, taking the man's hand. "And you are Beadle Bamford" the man smiled another grotesque smile.  
"You are correct sir, you must have heard about me!" he said arrogantly.  
"To an extent yes, you see I have seen you come here, every week for the past five weeks. Every week you speak to young Elizabeth Harker over there" he pointed at a young woman. "In a most flirtatious manor. Even though you are well aware that she is married and with child" the grin was steadily fading from Beadle's face. "On several occasions I have seen you with Judge Turpin; you often appear to be hanging onto his every word, as a lackey would!"  
"Lackey?" Beadle muttered in disbelief.  
"Indeed!" Sherlock replied casually.  
"Perhaps I shall take back my proposal Mr. Holmes" Beadle replied, with a sharp glance from his beady little eyes.  
"Ah, but you won't!" Sherlock told him. "I am assuming the Judge needs my assistance and until now you were unsure as to weather I was capable or not for such a task. My display here today has proven that I am"  
"It has sir" Beadle growled. "The great and honourable Judge Turpin would like to see you this afternoon, if you don't mind"  
"I shall be there, you can count on it!" Sherlock assured him. Beadle turned on his heels and walked away. "That was easier than expected" Sherlock looked to the stage, Beadle was called up to judge a contest between Pirelli and an odd looking, thin man. With skin as pale as that of a Bram Stoker character. His hair was bushy and black with a long white streak through it; despite his bizarre appearance he managed to use his barber's blade with poise and elegance as he shaved the facial hair of the willing participant (this was in fact a contest where the two each had to shave a volunteer's face). "Fascinating" Sherlock said, examining this mysterious second barber. He turned to me quickly. "We best be off home, we must get dressed for are meeting with Judge Turpin!"  
"Of course!" I replied with a grin.


	2. Chapter 2 Meeting Judge Turpin

**Meeting with Judge Turpin  
**  
Judge Turpin was a very well respected man, and Sherlock insisted that we look our best when we meet him. I put on the new frock coat Sherlock purchased for me over my smartest suit. I came down the stairs to see that Sherlock had not changed his outfit.  
"Very good!" he said cheerfully. "Much better than what it was!" I sighed and followed him out the door. We went along the same route we did earlier except we went left, when we went right before. The alley led into a long street which seemed free from the 'doom and gloom' of the lower classes. Each house was immaculately kept; likely because everyone in each house had about five servants to their name. The only contrast to this modern Utopia was a beggar woman wandering the street, muttering strange things to herself and a scruffy looking young man with a bag on his back, who did not seem to fully know where he was.  
"Watson!" Sherlock said suddenly. "Speak to that beggar woman; ask her where we can locate Judge Turpin's house!"  
"You mean you don't know?"  
"Of course I do, I just need it clarified!"  
"Very well!" I groaned and I approached the woman. I cleared my throat and she jumped.  
"Excuse me" I said kindly.  
"What love?" replied the seemingly deranged woman. Her face seemed like it was once very pretty, but a terrible lifestyle and (I assume) substance abuse left her appearance tarnished and beyond repair.  
"Could you tell me where Judge Turpin lives?" I asked her. She looked at me blankly before bursting to life once more.  
"The good Judge lives there!" she said, pointing a frail finger at a rather menacing looking house.  
"Thank you!" I said, I reached into my pocket, took out a half-sovereign and handed it to her.  
"Thank ye kind sir!" she said with a broken smile. We approached the tall manor which seemed to loom over the rest of the street. The curtains on every window on the top floor were drawn shut to keep out any peering eyes. A tall black iron fence surrounded the house, making it appear more like a prison than someone's home.  
"This is it!" Sherlock told me. "As I expected!" he smiled. He pushed open the gate and knocked on the dark oak door. The door opened several seconds later and I saw the vile face of Beadle glaring at us. "You were expecting us I see" Sherlock pushed past him and entered the house. I followed.  
"Thank you" I said to Beadle with a false smile. He did not reply.

I walked with Sherlock into a large square room. There was a beautiful marble fireplace at the left hand side of the room, with shelves stacked with various thick leather bound books at either side of it. A leather three leather arm chairs were aligned in a circle. One was taken up by a very powerful looking man. His hair was like a short, silver, surprisingly untidy mane. He was dressed rather fashionably with a beautifully tailored waistcoat, and elegantly shined leather shoes. As we entered the room he closed the large book he was reading, stood up and returned it to where it belonged.  
"Mr Holmes" he said in a calm, soothing voice. "Doctor Watson" he turned to me, I bowed slightly and then he gestured to the two arm chairs. "Please, have a seat"  
"Don't mind if we do" Sherlock replied for the both of us. The three of us sat down together.  
"I have a problem I would like you to take care of" Judge Turpin told my companion.  
"I assumed no less of you"  
"There is a young street urchin; who goes by the name Anthony Hope. He is young, roughly nineteen with blond hair, dressed in filthy rags! I know little more about him. Beadle has told me he spends a lot of time standing outside my house"  
"And what do you want us to do exactly?" Sherlock asked.  
"I want you to follow him and discover anything which can be used as evidence against him!"  
"You want us to spy?" Sherlock raised an eyebrow.  
"He has been a thorn in my side for quite some time and I wish for you to see to it that he is dealt with. Normally I would handle this situation myself but a friend of mine insisted that you would be the perfect man for the job" Turpin explained.  
"I see…might I ask do you take an interest in astronomy?" Judge Turpin looked at Sherlock with a confused expression.  
"Not really Mr Holmes, I do not care for such things. Also my duties as a judge keep me rather busy" Turpin explained. "Why?"  
"Just trying to find a common interest my friend"  
"Alright. Do we have a deal Mr Holmes? I can certainly pay you handsomely!"  
"No doubt" he thought for a moment. "I shall take your 'case'!" a disconcerting smile spread across the Judge's face.  
"Good, I knew I could count on you Mr Holmes!"  
"We shall get to work immediately!" Sherlock exclaimed, jumping out of the chair.  
"Wonderful" Turpin said calmly. "Beadle!" he called. Beadle entered the room; I suspected that he was listening to our conversation. "Show our guests out won't you?"  
"Of course sir" Beadle replied with a foul little smile and a bow. "Follow me" he said to us.  
"No thank you" Sherlock said quickly and he walked straight past Beadle, I followed him, the sooner I left that house, the better.  
"Just as I thought!" Sherlock said happily as we passed out of the gate and back into the street.  
"Yes?" I asked.  
"Judge Turpin is in fact working for none other than our dear friend Moriarty!" he told me.  
"How can you be sure?" I asked.  
"Again Watson you did not look! The book he was reading 'The Dynamics of an asteroid' though he said he had no interest in astronomy, I am guessing Moriarty has hidden instructions within it. Also on top of the fireplace you admired was a letter, at the bottom it read 'sincerely M' Judge Turpin is clearly very careless, but it has helped us in this investigation. And who else would this anonymous 'friend' be, if Turpin often handles these situations alone?"  
"I understand. And what are we going to do about his case?" I questioned.  
"Well, we shall pursue the boy and report back to Turpin, there is still a lot more to see in that man's home" he looked up at the curtained window. "Let's go, I saw a lovely looking pie shop nearby and I am rather hungry!"


	3. Chapter 3 The Worst Pies in London

**The Worst Pies in London!  
**  
I wished to ask Holmes if he knew what the word 'lovely' meant when he described 'Mrs Lovett's Pie Shop' a rather ghastly looking establishment. The outside of the house was a mix of old and new grey bricks horribly shoved together, as if the architect did not care what the finished product, as long as he just got it done. We walked in through the grubby wooden door. The woman behind the counter (I assumed was Mrs Lovett) was in her late thirties, her skin was as pale as a fresh snow, which strangely complimented her sharp facial structure her eyes were very dark, as well as large and her hair a mess and her clothing was a mixture of different torn rags fashioned into and almost attractive outfit. I looked around the seemingly barren shop and saw the young boy from Pirelli's caravan sitting at a table; his wig was no longer on, his hands were now bandaged and his eye had a fresh bruise.  
"Customers!" exclaimed Mrs Lovett with wide, excited eyes. She gestured to a table close to the door and we sat down. "What can I get you two gentlemen?" she said with a smile on her pale face.  
"Two pies if you don't mind!" Sherlock told her.  
"Not at all" she said, sounding rather surprised. She began the preparation of the pies upon her filthy counter (on two occasions I noticed strange insects crawling over the pastry).  
"We have uncovered one of Moriarty's most valuble allies today I believe Watson!" Holmes said to me, keeping his eyes fixed on Mrs Lovett. "He has clearly been using the Judge's influence to amass his criminal empire"  
"Judge?" Mrs Lovett repeated.  
"Yes, Judge Turpin, you know him?" Sherlock asked her. Mrs Lovett gasped.  
"Of course I know 'em sir. Everyone round here knows about Judge Turpin. And his" she looked around the shop (which I thought rather unnecessary). "History"  
"Do tell" Holmes replied with clear interest. She began to tell us the grizzly tale of the previous owner of this shop, a Mr Benjamin Barker, a barber, he once had a wife, Lucy and a beautiful young daughter named Johanna. Mrs Lovett told us how Judge Turpin desired Lucy and sent Benjamin Barker to prison for the rest of his life. Lucy spiralled into madness until finally Beadle came to her and invited her to Turpin's house where Turpin violated her before an audience of his peers who merely mocked the poor girl, leading to her poisoning herself and the daughter falling under the care of the Judge. The tale was horrible and I wished I could have forgotten it, but something tells me my friend wanted to hear every detail.  
"Ain't that just horrible?" Mrs Lovett said as she finished her story.  
"It is" I said quietly. Holmes said nothing.  
"Well, best get your pies!" she said, turning away from us and approaching the ancient oven.  
"Is that what you wanted to hear?" I whispered to Holmes.  
"Yes, it is best to know your enemy Watson!" Holmes replied. "Such acts cannot go unpunished, a policy I'm sure our friend would support, were it not him who had done wrong!"  
"What do we do now?"  
"Now, now we enjoy our surly delicious pies!" Holmes smiled as Mrs Lovett approached us with two pies on a tray. We handed her some money she thanked us and placed them on the table.  
"I just have to go check on Mr. Todd!" she told us. "Be back in a minute!" she left. I examined what she had placed in front of me for a moment. I proceeded to pick up the surprisingly hard pastry and attempted to eat it. It's texture was somewhat slimy and rough, making the experience almost twice as worse. In a matter of seconds I had taken a bite of that vile product and then spat it out into a napkin provided. Holmes on the other hand had not even touched his. He looked at me with an amused grin.  
"You had no intention of eating this ghastly mess did you?" I said angrily.  
"Not at all, if you had paid attention to Mrs Lovett you would have noticed that throughout her preparation she was infact muttering the words 'worst pies in London' and she would not give us the pies until we gave her our money also she was genuinely surprised when we ordered pies, in a pie shop!"  
"You are astounding Holmes!" I replied in admiration. "Young Master Hope, do you have an idea on what part he plays?"  
"I have many ideas, none of which add up. I would very much like to speak to this 'Mr. Todd' fellow; something tells me he is a crucial part in our investigation". Pirelli's boy got up from behind the table.  
"I got a thrashing because of you sir!" the boy said angrily to Holmes.  
"That was not my intention, I desired to expose Pirelli for the con artist that he is!" Holmes explained. Mrs Lovett returned some time later, she looked slightly shaken, the boy returned to his position behind the table. I noticed out the window that Judge Turpin was walking up the stairs leading to where 'Mr. Todd' was located.  
"Pardon me" Sherlock said to Mrs Lovett, making her jump slightly.  
"Yes love?" Mrs Lovett asked staring at us with those large eyes.  
"This, Mr Todd, he is a barber isn't he?"  
"Oh yes he is!" she looked in the direction of the stairs.  
"Excellent, I think I shall go to him then!"  
"You can't!" she yelled, startling me. "Not yet anyway. Very important man up there, Judge Turpin in fact!" she laughed awkwardly. "Speak of the devil, eh?" Holmes smiled politely.  
"Maybe another time then!"  
"Of course, stop by tomorrow!"  
"Time to go I think" Holmes stood up and I did the same.  
"Good day sir!" Mrs Lovett said politely. We left the shop.

"She is obviously hiding something!" I said.  
"That is extremely obvious, I am just glad you picked up on that!" Holmes replied. "I think I shall go see Mr Todd alone tomorrow Watson, you on the other hand" he trailed off as he watched the young man, Anthony running up the stairs leading to Todd's room. Shortly after Anthony ran out and Turpin followed, yelling, Mrs Lovett ran up the stairs to Todd. "Change of plans, you shall now confront this Anthony boy!" I nodded and accepted my task.


	4. Chapter 4 Johanna

**Sherlock Holmes: **

**And the Demon Barber of Fleet Street**

Johanna

A few days had gone by and I had not seen Holmes for a while. Last time I saw him was when he was leaving to see Mr. Sweeney Todd, I assumed he was doing something important and would inform me about it upon his return. I left following an enjoyable dinner prepared by Ms Hudson. I quickly returned to the street where the Judge lived, in the hopes that Anthony would be there (as neither Sherlock nor I could find him following the events at Mrs Lovett's and I could not find him for several days after but remained hopeful). Unfortunately I could not find the boy, but I saw that poor, insane beggar woman. I approached her with caution as I did before, and again she was muttering strange words to herself.

"Hello again" I said to her calmly. She turned to me with an odd look.

"I know you sir!" she said to me, showing her rotting brown teeth as she seemed to be trying to smile (something she obviously had not done for a while).

"I am searching for a young man" I told the woman. She began making strange hand gestures.

"I know him! Pretty lad he is sir!" she cackled. "The mad house that's where he's gone!"

"Why?" I asked her, not sure how she would respond.

"After his love he was! A certain Miss 'Johanna!" the woman replied, there was a look in her eyes which I could not understand.

"Johanna" I repeated.

"Yes sir, pretty as a picture she is! No wonder Judge Turpin kept her locked up like that, a fine prize she is! Course now he's done with 'er and sent 'er to Fogg's!"

"Thank you!" I told her, I handed her some money and ran off in the direction of the asylum which belonged to the cruel Doctor Baxter Fogg. I found Anthony outside the asylum. His eyes met mine, and to my surprise he drew a flintlock pistol and aimed it at me.

"Who are you?" he asked me, with slight hesitation. The pistol was shaking in his hand. "I noticed you outside Turpin's house! You and your friend, what do you want?"

"I want to help you!" I admitted, after all he was pointing a weapon at me; it would be safest to just side with him for the time being. "What's happened?"

"That bastard Judge Turpin!" Anthony growled, lowering the weapon. "He locked her up in here! But I am going to get her back!"

"Surly there was reason for her being there?" I suggested, unsure as to why I was taking the side of the despicable judge. Especially when the boy had a pistol.

"There is nothing wrong with her!" Anthony argued. "I am going in here! And when I return I will be with Johanna and we are going to escape from here. Do not get in our way!"

"I assure you! I won't" I told him. "Our hatred for the judge is mutual!" I believe Anthony may have smiled at me before he entered the Gothic structure that was the asylum. After roughly ten minutes I heard screams from the North East window. Anthony and Johanna emerged from the asylum. The girl was beautiful. Her skin was pale and almost gleaming under the moonlight. Her hair was a mess but it still looked as though it were made of fine silk.

"Where will we go my love?" she asked Anthony desperately, and then she looked upon me and gasped. "That's one of the men from Judge Turpin's house!"

"Don't worry Johanna; he said he will help us!" Anthony looked at me.

"And I will remain true to my word!" I told them. "We will return to Baker Street!" they followed me as I led them back to my home. I opened the door quickly and ran inside, my companions followed.

"What's going on?" yelled Ms Hudson.

"I have work to do Ms Hudson!" I shouted down to her from my room. Anthony and Johanna came inside my room and they sat down.

"How do you plan to get out of London?" I asked the young couple.

"We're getting the first ship out of London" Anthony told me. "And we'll be able to go wherever we want!"

"Then might I suggest the two of you disguise yourselves? My friend has many marvellous costumes, I doubt he'd mind if you took some!" I showed them to where Sherlock kept his various costumes.

"Thank you for your kindness stranger" Anthony smiled; he entered the room with the young Johanna. I returned to my room and waited for them to return. They entered the room both disguised as sailors (Anthony himself was a sailor so this was not very difficult for him to achieve). Johanna was a surprisingly convincing male. "We have to get to Mr. Todd!" Anthony told me.

"Can I ask you something first, before we go?" I asked Johanna.

"Yes?" Johanna looked at me wide eyed.

"Do you know a man named, Moriarty?" Johanna thought for a moment.

"In Judge Turpin's house, I saw M's on a lot of important looking documents, and in a little leather bound notebook I saw the name written several times!" she explained.

"Thank you!" I replied with a smile. "That was most helpful"

"Shall we go?" Anthony asked.

"Of course! I will accompany you to the shop, and then I will go to Turpin's house" I informed them. Though I was not sure how I was going to get into his house.

"Then take this" Anthony handed me a key, I looked at it surprised. "I managed to take it from Beadle while he was beating me!"

"Let's go then!" I said with a grin and we left my home and ventured towards Mrs Lovett's pie shop.


	5. Chapter 5 A Barber and His Wife

**Sherlock Holmes: **

**And the Demon Barber of Fleet Street**

A Barber and his Wife

I left Anthony and Johanna shortly after we arrived at Mrs Lovett's pie shop. I saw Mrs Lovett and smiled at her, she seemed slightly worried about something. My companions quickly ran up the stairs to Sweeney Todd's room. I walked on until once again I was in the street of Judge Turpin's house. Surprisingly the beggar was not there. The lights in the Judge's house were all out. I did not feel right doing this, it was honestly something I would expect Sherlock to do. I removed the key Anthony have given me from my coat pocket and entered the house. It was dark but I had managed to obtain a small oil lamp before coming there. I lit it and made my way to Judge Turpin's study. The door creaked open. I walked into the room, I was oddly suspicious. I approached what I could make out was the outline of a desk. I rested the lamp on it and the glow emanated throughout the room. I began looking through the papers on the desk. There was nothing out of the ordinary on these documents, no M's or the name Moriarty. There were just a lot of legal documents. I pulled open one of the drawers on the desk, and there it was the small leather bound book which Johanna spoke of. I picked it up and opened it. It was filled with appointments, meetings with the 'mysterious Moriarty'; it documented every illegal activity which Turpin helped Moriarty with. The book proved Judge Turpin's corruption and because of this I know we can arrest him and this strange adventure can come to an end. I put the book in my pocket, lifted the lamp and left.

I walked into Fleet Street to see several police officers outside Mrs Lovett's Pie Shop. I saw (as I expected) Lestrade. I approached him.  
"What's happened?" I asked.  
"Mass murder!" Lestrade informed me. "Barber went mental!"  
"How many dead?" I asked, shocked, thinking of Mrs Lovett, Johanna and Anthony.  
"On this, particular incident we have five dead" Lestrade replied.  
"Five?" I gasped.  
"Yeah, and we believe more were people have been killed, we've uncovered some rather, disturbin' stuff in there"  
"What do you mean?"  
"Well, I shouldn't be tellin' ya this, but I trust you Watson. We saw the bodies of Beadle Bamford, Judge Turpin, Sweeney Todd and a beggar woman. My boys went looking around and found" he paused for a moment. "Limbs finger an' toes all that sort of stuff"  
"D-did Todd kill them?" I asked.  
"We think so, and we think Mrs Lovett" he pointed to the shop. "We think she cooked the bodies!" he wretched.  
"Where's Mrs Lovett now?" I asked.  
"Dead, we think. We found a fifth body. In the furnace. Charred up pretty bad. The only thing we're sure of is that it was female" Lestrade sighed. "It really goes to show ya, between this and that Palmer girl. You don't know who to trust"  
"Yeah" I said weakly. I had nothing else to say. This was difficult information to take in. Five people dead. Turpin included. All this work was for nothing.  
"Now, if you don't mind" Lestrade said. "I've got work to do"  
"Of course" I replied.

After walking for what seemed like hours I finally returned to Baker Street. I entered my house and walked up the stairs with difficulty. I opened the door to the living room and I saw Sherlock sitting in an armchair.  
"Have fun?" he asked. I looked at him for the first time in several days.  
"Where have you been?" I asked. I had almost forgotten about the tragedy I had walked away from only moments ago in my curiosity.  
"I was dead Watson!" Sherlock told me.  
"Dead?" I repeated.  
"Yes, you see, when I went to Mr Todd I had quickly deduced that he was Benjamin Barker and he in fact sought revenge upon our friend Judge Turpin. This deduction did not please Barker or Todd, and he tried to kill me. He was brandishing his barber's blade and attacked me. He managed to slice at my stomach and the side of the neck. Neither wounds were fatal, but they did sting. I quickly overpowered Mr Todd and made my escape, making sure that I appeared fatally wounded. Todd followed briefly until I moved into the centre of the street where I suddenly collapsed and appeared to have perished. Not many saw me leave the barber's shop, and those who did are likely dead now. My body was taken to a morgue where I quickly explained my situation and left. For a few days I watched from the distance as people entered the shop and never returned" Holmes explained.  
"You let those people die?" I said angrily.  
"It was not my proudest moment! But, if I am allowed to continue. It was not until tonight that I noticed that a great deal was going on and I had to act. Unfortunately by the time I got involved Todd, Turpin, Beadle, Lucy and Mrs Lovett were all dead"  
"Lucy?"  
"The beggar woman, she was Benjamin Barker's wife" Sherlock told me.  
"Why didn't you tell anyone, any of this?" I asked angrily.  
"Overconfidence Watson! I believed I had everything under control, but the situation. Got out of hand!" Sherlock seemed genuinely disappointed by this, I was surprised by this.  
"Well, if it's any consultation, I have Turpin's journal. It could help us with Moriarty" Sherlock looked at me then rose from his chair. He held out his hand and I gave him the book. He began to glance over the pages.  
"Fascinating Watson, very fascinating. We may have something here!" he seemed as though he had forgotten about the events at Mrs Lovett's pie shop. He handed me an open envelope. "This arrived for you" I took out the letter and began to read the messy handwriting.

Mr Watson.

Thank you for assisting us and helping us escape. We are forever in your debt. Sadly we shall not see each other ever again as I plan to travel the world with Johanna. We both hope you find what you were searching for to put that bastard Turpin away!

My thanks again. Anthony.

I finished reading the letter and smiled.  
"Young love. It's fascinating isn't it Holmes?" I said to my friend. He simply groaned in response and moved into another room. Our conversation was done.


End file.
